A Jagged Gorgeous Winter
by Morbidlyartistic
Summary: With a haze of opiates Viola has done everything she can to forget the memories of her life in Russia and adjust to her routine as a key player in the Underworld of New York City's opiate trade. Realizing the dangerous and fatal life she's living, will a sweet newsboy with dreams of dancing and a drug lord's daughter be the key to finally escaping her addiction and her employer?
1. Cover Page

**A Jagged Gorgeous Winter**

"_Your eyes, they shine so bright_

_I want to save that light_."

~ _Demons_ by Imagine Dragons


	2. Sawdust & Diamonds

**Chapter One** - _Sawdust & Diamonds_

There were few months in New York City that were rather unforgiving, especially to those whose home was the cobble stone streets and not the houses that lined them. Those that were lucky enough to have been blessed with shelter and wealth always walked with smiles and carefree expressions passing without so much as a glance at those that were sullen and begging. Those that were so carefree had no idea of the secret world that lingered just beyond their doorsteps. The world filled with death, poverty, and corruption.

In this world lived a girl, Viola, who could barely stand as she leaned against an alley wall. Clenched in her fist was a pipe whose remnants were what people called opiates. Slowly she slid down the icy brick into the black pile of snow and sighed. Her mouth was partly open, her chapped lips catching the few snowflakes that were beginning to fall, and her eyes dazed and half closed. Everything that was reality when she was sober was dissipating into a dizzy abyss that spun nearly out of control.

Viola couldn't think, she couldn't move, all she could do was feel her heavy body sink deeper into the cold substance beneath her. Somewhere in the back of her consciousness she could hear herself screaming to get up. It would be only a matter of time before hypothermia surged into her limbs and froze the only thing she had to make money, her body. With the last of her strength she stood shakily stepping out of the alley and into the public eye. This was all she could do, was stand and watch the passer by's.

Few glanced her way, and those that knew of the secret world understood why she stood as nothing but a vessel, but said and did nothing except quicken their pace. Grinding her teeth she slowly put one foot in front of the other and staggered down the sidewalk. Why did she always fight certain death? If Viola took just an ounce more of the drug she wouldn't have kept common sense. Instead she would have remained in the snow allowing the cold that she could hardly feel to freeze her to death. _Next time_ she reassured herself as she drunkenly shoved open the door to her home, her refuge, and her prison.

"Lied to me again huh?" Al stated as he moved from around the bar towards his tenant. Viola couldn't respond she could only stare. "I told you Vi, I told you, if you do it again you're gone." Al wouldn't throw her out. He threatened of course, but he would never follow through. Not only did she bring a majority of his business, but he liked her, cared for her. They had a friendship that no one could understand, not even Viola. He sighed loudly before wrapping his arm around her waist. They moved swiftly up the stairs and into her bedroom where he helped her lie down.

"I made it back." She whispered reaching toward the ceiling. "I saw them Al, I saw them this time." She laughed to keep the tears from spilling. "I think it's the snow that helped them find me. It always snowed in Russia." Al said nothing as he pulled the covers to her chin and seated himself on the side of her bed.

"What do you think they would say? If they knew you were smoking opiates?"

"They would say..." she trailed off allowing her hand to fall. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" he questioned.

"They're dead. They can't say anything anymore." Al stood watching as her high finally encased the last ounce of sobriety she had and catapulted Viola into another world far from him. She laughed hysterically before closing her eyes and drifting off into sleep.

* * *

The sun was nearly too much to bear as Viola's eyes reluctantly opened. She lifted her hand to shield the rays that cascaded across her dingy bedroom. Sighing loudly she listened for the sounds of Al preparing the bar for service. It was quiet. Which only meant two things. It was too early, or Al was incredibly angry with her. With a groan she forced herself out of bed and to a standing position. Steadying herself against her dresser she haphazardly slung dresses about until she found something presentable.

Her head hurt and her stomach was in knots as she slid the satin fabric over her lacy night clothes. This was the first time she ever felt hungover after a high. Turning she checked herself in the mirror and smirked. Picking up a brush she ran the bristles through her unruly black curls. Once they were to her satisfaction she pinned them back before splashing cold water on her face. The chill helped and she inhaled deeply.

Her fingers grasped the gold rosary about her neck and she forced herself to stare at her reflection. Before she could break the mirror she fixed her make up and grabbed her shoes. There was no one downstairs as she emerged from her bedroom. Slowly she maneuvered to the bar and leaned across the slimy counter.

"Al?!" she called. "Al, I know you're back there."

"So what if I am?" he responded grunting as he shoved back his chair. She raised her eyebrows at the sound of slamming cabinets and tinkling glasses.

"Al, look,"

"I don't want to hear it. Not this time Viola." he snapped shoving his way from the kitchen and towards her. "I told ya that if you did it again, you'd be gone."

"Are you serious?" she smirked in disbelief. "And where would I go?"

"Why didn't you think about that before?" he demanded crossing his arms. "I can't come lookin' for you in allies anymore." She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes.

"You really think it's that easy for me to change?" she whispered. "That I can wake up one morning and be someone else?!"

"The point here is that you didn't even try." he replied his stance loosening as he stared at her. "You didn't even try, and I don't go back on my word."

"I'll get my stuff within the hour." she turned on her heel and stomped towards the door.

"Vi,"

"Don't call me that." she spat as she exited the bar. The sunlight was worse outside as she moved through the streets of Manhattan. Clenching her fists she lifted her chin attempting to bite back tears. She wouldn't let Al's rule break her, she wouldn't feel betrayed. He didn't understand her dilemma, her plight. "Damn it..." she whispered feeling the sobs threatening her composure. Her feet carried her into the ever familiar Lower Manhattan.

Not too far from what was known as 'Bottle Alley' was a small establishment known as an opiate den. Numerous patrons flocked the dark flat to smoke opiates that they bought from her employers. In fact, half of the patrons were her usual clients. However, she knew her boss would be extremely unhappy that she had lost her room at Al's. It was a good undercover place for her to take customers and participate in pass offs and smuggling.

Suddenly she veered off the street that took her directly to the alley and found herself jogging in the opposite direction. She had to go anywhere, be anywhere, but there. Slowly she moved through the bustling streets. It was the first time she looked at the shops, studied the people, and envisioned herself in someone else's shoes. Her entire life had been a constant battle of survival but never once had she imagined something different. In fact, she had always been told that there was nothing different.

However, living in America had showed her otherwise. There were people, people that she was passing at this moment, that knew true happiness. Sighing she paused to lean against a building situated in the shade. It was a peaceful day besides the intermittent cold wind. She wrapped her arms about her stomach and settled into a daydream. As she thought of her home and happy memories of Russia she heard a familiar tune.

The musical notes drifted through the air accosting her reverie. Straightening she followed the sound towards a rather large sky rise. It towered towards the clouds as the windows reflected the sun casting shapes along the cobblestone. Viola squinted as she tried to make out the sign. She wasn't very well versed in reading English, but she could make out the word 'school.' Curiosity got the better of her and she followed an alley around to the back.

To her surprise she wasn't the only one entranced by the music. Standing before a large window a young man attempted to pirouette. Viola couldn't help but laugh out loud as he tripped mid way through the turn. The man jumped at the sound and fell backwards into a set of boxes. Her laughter grew louder and she held her hands out as an apology. In those few moments Viola's problems, her sick feeling from the dope, it all disappeared. It was only her, the music, and the young man blushing profusely as he scrambled from the crates.

"I'm sorry," she chuckled. "I didn't mean to scare you." He brushed his clothes off.

"No, I mean, I didn't think, I mean, its fine, are you a student?" He jumbled his words but she was able to understand enough.

"Student?" He nodded scratching his head nervously. "No, I followed the music. Are you?" His eyes widened before shaking his head.

"No! I wish! I mean, did I look that good?!" She smiled before laughing once more.

"Honestly?" He looked too hopeful for her to tell the truth. "You were pretty good." His grin was breath taking.

"Come look." He extended his hand. Reluctantly she took it and he pulled her towards him. It was the first time in the presence of a man Viola blushed. She felt shy as he wrapped his hands around her waist and helped her onto the ledge so she could see into the window. Clenching her teeth she tried to focus on the display before her and not the feel of his grip on her flesh. Viola watched the ballet students twirl and jump to the music. Her mouth formed a fascinated 'O' as she studied the familiar movements. Then the care free feeling dispersed and she was doused with bad memories. Bleeding feet, bruised ribs, harsh words, and deafening music. Quickly she grabbed his hands and pushed him away from her.

"Are you okay?" He asked as she stumbled her hand over her mouth.

"Yes, I, I mean, don't worry about it." He looked truly concerned as he watched her. She forced a smile. "I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it." She lied, but it worked and his gorgeous smile returned.

"I know! I've been coming here every Tuesday, they have classes then." She watched as he climbed the ledge and peered in. She saw the longing on his face as he engraved every move into his mind.

"You want to dance?" she inquired smiling as a blush crept across his cheeks.

"I know that ballet isn't really something most men do." He whispered jumping to the ground. "But I snuck into a show once. At the theatre on 33rd street, and it was mesmerizing." She swallowed hard at the passion and awe in his voice. Viola remembered what it was like to be in love with Ballet. Unfortunately, it became something more like a prison for her than a freedom of expression.

"Yes, ballet is mesmerizing." She smiled encouragingly. The music stopped and they could hear the teacher calling out to the students.

"Well lessons done for today!" he huffed reaching down and grabbing a stack of papers. "I better get back to work, or else my friends might worry." As she watched him move away from her she felt a sudden loss. He was leaving. The joy and light that he had casted into her world momentarily would be gone. Before she could stop herself she reached out and grabbed his sleeve. He turned his brows furrowed at her actions.

"I'm sorry, I, I mean, I didn't mean to, I just…" she trailed off reluctantly letting him go.

"I'm Mush." He said extending his hand. She looked up at him and laughed before taking it. The warmth spread like electricity through her palms and down her arm. Her eyes searched his wondering if he felt the same spark.

"Viola." She breathed not wanting to release him. His chocolate brown eyes were wide with shock and excitement.

"Nice to meet you." He whispered before finally letting go. They stared at each other for a few intense moments before he shifted his papers under another arm. "This may be a little forward, but do you wanna meet me here next Tuesday?"

"Me?" she laughed. "I don't dance." He fidgeted before forcing his own nervous laughter.

"I mean, you don't have to dance, but you could, keep me company?"

"You know Mush, I'd like that." He grinned before waving goodbye.

"Sounds great! See you then Vi!" and then he disappeared around the corner. _Vi_? She shook her head at the familiar nickname and kicked the dirt. Gripping the gold rosary about her neck she turned back towards the direction of 'Bottle Alley.' No doubt her boss would be furious she hadn't checked in at the designated time. _Oh well_, she thought, _At least I met Mush_. She smiled as she remembered the boy trying to pirouette and thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd return next Tuesday.

* * *

Bottle Alley was infamous for the shady characters that roamed the moldy streets. It was situated between the reputable places of New York, and the places no one ventured to unless they never wanted to return, creating a strange bottle shape. Viola rubbed her arms in hopes of gaining warmth against the cold wind. Unfortunately, the sun never shone in the far reaches of the small community.

Thankfully she reached the opiate house and pushed the door open. Inside it offered warmth from the burning drugs and smoke. A few regulars offered slurred greetings as she swept past the wooden bunk beds and velvet chaises. The familiar door that led into the office beckoned to her menacingly. Since the loss of her good friend Spot Conlon, she had found herself weary of the life she led. He had left her, found another way out, found someone worth living and dying for. However, Viola was still trapped in the same mindless, dangerous life. Taking a deep breath she composed herself before knocking.

"Come in!" her boss called and she entered the circular room. Fletcher Reese, second command of the infamous Whyno gang, sat hunched over a stack of dollar bills and baggies. He glanced up and smirked before leaning back in the wooden chair. "Late Viola." He commented removing the cigarette from behind his ear.

"Long night." He nodded as he inhaled.

"I bet." His exhale of smoke circled her face. "Did you bring it?" nodding she reached into her corset producing her nights pay, and the opiates she had retrieved. Greedily Reese snatched the profits and began counting the crumpled bills. "Maybe we should start cutting old Al in on the profits." He mused. Viola stepped away from him.

"Al kicked me out." She confessed watching as Fletcher paused in his activities.

"Excuse me?" he asked slowly setting the money down. "He did what?"

"I was high, and he told me I couldn't stay there anymore if I got high." He flew into a rage. Slamming his fist on the desk he stood, the chair flying backwards.

"Damn it Viola!" he snapped. "You couldn't have waited until you got here?"

"Reese," he cut her off with the slap of his hand. She balanced herself against the door feeling the warmth of blood. "I'm sorry."

"Damn right you're sorry. You lost our cover out of your own stupidity. Give me your supply." She jerked up staring at him with wide eyes.

"No, Reese, anything but that!" he sneered at her as he extended his hand.

"Your stash Viola." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she fell to her knees.

"Please, please Reese! I can't! I need it. I'll do anything, anything you ask, anything but that." He turned his face away as he finished his cigarette.

"God you're pathetic." He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. She stayed on her knees her hands clasped in silent prayer. "I'll make sure Al gives you back your room." Fear struck her heart and she scrambled to her feet.

"Let me do it!"

"You? You already lost it."

"Reese, I can get it back." He shrugged accepting her plea.

"As for keeping your stash, I'll allow it."

"Thank you, oh god, thank you!" she cried.

"This ain't for free darling," he brushed past her and opened the door. "Follow me." Viola allowed Reese to lead her past the patrons and into another room. The men glanced up at the entrance of their leader and smirked. She felt a few hands run down her arm and waist as she passed by.

Suppressing the need to cringe she plastered a nonchalant expression on her face and paused in front of the motley group. "As you know, the Chinese have been running the opiate game for far too long." Fletcher began lighting another cigarette. "I think it's time ole' Li has a run for his money, what do you boys think?" there were grunts and cheers of approval. "His gang has been taking far too much potential profit from us, and thanks to Hacksaw," Reese nodded in the elderly man's direction. "We finally know exactly how to take him out." He gestured for Hacksaw to speak and carefully the man stood from his chair.

"Li has a daughter. Young, pretty little thing. If there's anything that man loves more than money, it's her." Viola's stomach churned as the plan Fletcher had been devising unfolded.

"And who better to gain that girl's trust, and distract the guards then our own pretty little thing Viola?" Fletcher announced slipping his arm around her waist. "Right Vi?" he breathed. The boys laughed.

"Couldn't agree more," Hacksaw praised. "Viola, get those men that stand around Li's kid to let their guard down, and then snatch her. Simple as that. I'll be just around the corner." They waited for her answer. Lifting her chin she forced a smile and winked at her colleagues.

"Anything to keep the money coming my way." They were satisfied with her answer and after a few more jests and leers, and discussion of Hacksaw's plan, Reese escorted her back to his office. He turned towards her as she stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"If you wanna keep Al from getting what's coming to him, and keep that nice little stash of yours from disappearing, make sure you bring Li's daughter to me."

"Anything you say Reese." He smiled in approval.

"Tomorrow morning, 4 AM, right before the sun rises. Meet the boys near Pell Street; grab her while she's on her way to school in Upper Manhattan." Viola agreed and swept from the establishment as fast as her feet would carry her. She remembered the days that Spot had told her to get out of Reese's group, the days he warned her about ulterior motives and evil intentions. Now she was alone. Alone and afraid, and unable to free herself from the clutches of Fletcher Reese and opiates.

"Why did you leave me?" she whispered as she turned her gaze to the sky. "Why couldn't you have taken me with you?" Biting her lip she looked away deciding it would be best to refrain from crying. Instead she hurried towards Al's bar in hopes to regain her room.

The sign was still flipped to closed by the time she reached the familiar establishment. Pausing she rested her hand against the peeling paint and listened. There was no sound coming from inside, no sound echoing towards her from the streets. Everything was still and silent and abruptly Viola felt afraid. Something was shifting in her life and she knew she was powerless to stop it.

The stagnant routine she had grown accustomed to would suddenly disappear and the unknown was infinitely more frightening than the known. Clenching her teeth she grabbed the knob and pushed the door open. The bar was hardly ready for service as she walked past the chairs still situated on top of the tables. Their fight this morning had to have upset Al more than she thought. Feeling guilty she pulled down a bar stool and sat her back rigid and her hands in fists.

"Al!" she called her eyes roaming the door way behind the counter. Slowly his large form appeared leaning against the frame as he casually cleaned a glass.

"Back so soon. Here to collect ya stuff?" he asked his tone oozing contempt. Viola nodded her understanding that she deserved his anger; yet, he deserved hers too.

"Don't get smart with me Al. I'm not here to have a pissing contest."

"Oh, you live and breathe for that Viola. What are ya here for then?" She lifted her chin in defiance and raised an eyebrow.

"Kicking me out was wrong. And you know it was. You think you know everything Al. Well news flash, you don't. You're just an old broken man that thinks he sees the world exactly for what it is."

"Is that so? I told you no more, and here I find you half dead outside in the snow! Really, tell me what I'm not seeing Viola?! I see a trapped little girl too afraid to face reality!" It hurt to hear those words slip so easily from his tongue. It hurt to know as she slammed her fists on the bar and feigned anger she knew he was right. Viola had realized this herself. However, she needed to make this work for his sake and hers too.

"So what do you do to this trapped little girl?! You kick her out in the reality she can't face and say good luck?! You know what will happen to me if they find out I'm homeless?! Not that you care, no you only care that I like to recreationally smoke opiates every now and then. Big deal Al! Big deal! Look at the bigger picture!"

"What bigger picture!" he threw the glass from his hands and stepped over the shattering shards. "What bigger picture am I missing? All I know is I'm staring at a girl that I consider like me own daughter, and she's blatantly slapping me in the face for all the sacrifices I made for her. Is that big enough for you?" Their noses almost touched as each of them leaned across the counter in rage. Her elbows were locked her fingers curled underneath her palm. She could stare down any man without fear. Yet her narrowed eyes unfolded and her glare lessened as she leaned back.

"Daughter?" she croaked searching his eyes. That was unexpected and suddenly her plan shattered like the glass on the floor. Al sighed and shook his shaggy head as he stepped back.

"I don't make these rules to hurt you," He began running a greasy hand through his hair. "I make them to keep you alive."

"Al," she fell onto the chair. "Al, I, I'm sorry. I know, I know I'm a screw up. But I can't change as easily as you want me too. I _need_ them Al. You don't understand. I need them, and I need you. Please," she reached across the counter and gripped his hand. "Please don't make me choose between something that keeps me alive, and someone that I consider a father." His gaze snapped towards her in surprise. It took him a few moments but finally he conceded and gripped her hand tightly.

"Promise me Vi, that you'll try? Promise me please." He nearly pulled her over the counter in his pleading. "Promise me that you will try to get rid of this? If you continue on with this lifestyle I'm afraid…" he trailed off and released her as his eyes began to water.

"I promise Al. I promise." She whispered and he nodded as he reached for a broom. "So, can I come back?" he laughed loudly as he began sweeping up the casualty from their fight.

"I never intended to keep you kicked out for long. You're always welcome here." She smiled and slid across the bar to land a kiss on his cheek.

"Lemme change into something else and I'll come down to help you get ready for service yeah?" he consented and she hurried towards her bedroom. Once behind the safety of her door she slid to the ground. Her smile faltered as her lips caught the first salty tears. Inevitably she began to sob as she curled into a ball on the floor.

* * *

The morning air was crisp and agonizing as Viola slipped through the door of the bar. Al was still sound asleep and she had successfully crept past his employee without a stir from the old woman. She began her brisk walk towards Pell Street wrapping the holed jacket Al had lent her around her thin frame. There wasn't a soul on the streets as she passed the dark shops and dim homes. Normally New York was always awake, yet today the biting weather must have kept everyone inside. Letting out a few ragged breaths she watched the puffs of smoke float into the gray sky. After a few minutes she spotted Hacksaw and his men waiting eagerly on the corner. Checking the street for any witnesses she quickly crossed.

"Bout time." Hacksaw whispered fiercely as he gripped her forearm. "Look." He instructed her to peek around the brick wall. Carefully she flattened herself against the chilled stones before leaning her head slightly to peer around. Huddled in a circle of men was who she assumed to be Li's daughter. She was dressed formally in uniform and looked much like a child from the distance.

"Who goes to school at 4 in the morning?" Viola inquired turning back to her accomplices.

"Who cares," he growled. "Get out there and do your job." Waiting until her back was turned she rolled her eyes before dropping the coat on the ground. Adjusting her clothes she took a deep breath and staggered from around the wall and into the street. Coughing wildly she stumbled closer to the group. Hoping Li's daughter was a humanitarian she collapsed on her knees. She kept her head low allowing the fake coughs shake her body. Suddenly she jerked at the feeling of wool mittens gripping her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" she asked squeezing ever so gently.

"Lady Li, you mustn't." Li's daughter raised her hand quickly to dismiss her attendant.

"Here, let me help you up." Her voice was calm and soothing and Viola wanted so badly to curl into her arms and stay there. Though, she had a job to do. Gripping her coat collar frantically she peered into her face.

"Help me!" she yelled. "Please, they're coming, I tried, I tried to get away…" suddenly Hacksaw and the boys dashed from the corner screaming obscenities. Turning she screamed and jumped to her feet. Pointing a shaking finger she began to sob. "They found me!" Viola grabbed her hand in fear. "We have to run!" As she tugged Li behind her she heard rushed Chinese tumble from her lips as she instructed her men.

As they planned the guards turned to fight off Hacksaw's crew and Viola kept running. She pulled the girl through various allies making twists and turns. Finally she emerged at the service entrance of the opiate den and shoved open the door. Once she had Li standing in Reese's office she slammed the door and locked it. "We should be safe in here." She gasped leaning to catch her breath. Li said nothing. "Thank you."

"You can stop now." She responded causing Viola to look at her. Her face was concealed by a hood covered in fur.

"Stop what?" she asked fidgeting nervously. _Where was Reese?_

"I should have known when we started running it was all a ruse." She sighed. "I guess I have too much faith in people. Fuqin always said it was a flaw."

"Fuqin?" Viola repeated.

"Father in Chinese." She turned and reached for a paper weight on Reese's desk. "What is it you need from me?" her tone had a sense of superiority as she spoke and Viola shrunk against the door. The sound of applause caused them both to look towards a small opening in which Reese entered.

"Clever, clever girl." He mused pausing directly in front of her. Slowly he removed the weight from her hand. "Yet, you still followed Viola?" he juggled the sphere in his palms.

"What choice did I have? Your employee is quite clever too." He laughed loudly before returning the object to his desk.

"Viola clever? No, Viola does as she's told." Li shrugged nonchalantly.

"If you say so." Reese narrowed his eyes.

"Aren't you scared?" he growled. "You've been kidnapped."

"My father taught me to face my enemies." Another cold laugh erupted from Reese's throat.

"It's your father that brought you here. What do you say to that?"

"I doubt that very much." Reese grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer.

"Your precious _Fuqin_ is a drug lord and a smuggler. And I'm going to use you to make him do what I want. Your kind have invaded this city for far too long. That money belongs to me." It was Li's turn to laugh. It was bubbly and childlike causing Reese to release her roughly. Before she fell she grabbed the edge of his desk.

"You don't know my father." She shook her head slowly. "He will not do what you want, and he will not give up. Kidnapping me was a fatal mistake, sir." Reese let out a frustrated noise before raising his hand to slap her. Viola moved from her position against the door and shoved Li back receiving the stinging blow herself. He laughed.

"Well now, clever Viola is protecting you. How charming." He reached for her forearm. "Since you're such good friends with her you can be in charge of her detainment. And if she escapes for any reason, or anyone recognizes who she is, I will drag you both into the street for public execution, do you understand me?"

"Yes." Viola gasped.

"Good." He threw her back and cracked his knuckles. "Now," he began, moving around his desk to situate himself in his chair. "You're dismissed." Viola reached for Li's hand in which she flinched away.

"Follow me, please." She pleaded receiving a curt nod in response. Regaining composure she held open the door for Li to pass through.

"Oh and Viola?" she paused at Reese's voice. "Don't come back until I call for you." And with that she exited.

**A/N**: Hello! So, for anyone who has read "Self Conclusion" then you may recognize Viola as the prostitute who befriended Shaun, Spot's love interest. I never delved too deep into Viola and Spot's relationship, but they were quite good friends. Anyways, I fell in love with Vi when I was writing her part in Spot and Shaun's love story, and she was screaming at me in her Russian accent to write her story. So here it is! The life and time's of Viola! And who better to be with her than Mush! So, enjoy!

PS. I adore Li's daughter already XD


	3. Deal

Chapter two – Deal

Laughter spilled out from underneath the rotting door of Viola's bar. The regulars were already well past intoxicated as she listened to the familiar noise. Fidgeting she turned to her companion who stood rigidly in the dim alley way. Forcing a small smile she extended her hand.

"I need to hold onto you, is that alright?" Li did not respond and hesitantly Viola gripped her arm. It was consolation when she did not pull away. "Don't say a word and keep to the shadows." She whispered before turning the knob. They slipped seemingly unnoticed into the busy establishment. Li and Viola worked well as a team huddled against the wall at the back.

Al was preoccupied with pouring drinks and his employee was setting large plates of food on various tables. No one turned in their direction, not even when they pounded up the rickety steps towards Viola's bedroom. Thankful she led Li into the middle of her room and secured the door. Pressing her ear against the rough wood she listened for a few tense moments. The same laughter she had grown used to echoed upstairs. "No one saw us." She confirmed.

Li stood silently in a pile of dresses. Her hands clasped respectfully in front of her. Viola's heart constricted at the small girl still dressed for the cold. She wished she could fix what she had done, but there was no going back. Viola would forever be a kidnapper. Shakily she swept towards her dresser and began shifting through her wardrobe.

"Thank you." Straightening Viola turned slowly to face the girl.

"Excuse me?" she questioned unsure if she had heard correctly.

"My father always taught me to give recognition when recognition was due. So thank you." Wringing the satin fabric in her fist she laughed nervously.

"I don't understand what I did."

"You stood in my place and received that man's anger. For that I thank you." Swallowing thickly she nodded.

"Anytime." Dropping the garment on the floor she proceeded to search for her most modest outfit. Unfortunately, modesty was not her strong suit and after a few frustrating moments picked something somewhat presentable. "I'm sorry, but you have to change." She extended her hand with the dress. "I wish I had something more appropriate, but…" she trailed off gesturing at herself. Carefully Li took the gown and held it up to the light.

"I've never worn anything like this before," She mused resting it gently on Viola's bed. "I'm sure it'll be quite different." Briskly she peeled off her wool mittens and then continued to her jacket. Black hair tumbled from underneath the fur hood coming to rest a few inches past her shoulders. It was stick straight and shone brightly against the light. Her skin was like porcelain, smooth and pristine. She was thin with the right touch of womanly curves, yet she stood at only 5 foot one, clearly a child's height. By the time the dress was situated it looked rather large as if she was dressing in her mother's clothes.

"May I?" Viola inquired pointing at the silver clasps. Li turned so her back faced her and with a quiet sigh of relief she made quick work of the buttons. At last Viola was able to see her face, her eyes a bold and expressive caramel brown that seemed to pierce through her. Quickly she glanced away and hastily began to pick up her clothes.

There was no way she could keep Li here. Al would eventually find her, and it would be difficult for Viola to continue business. The only solution that came to mind was Madame Lucille's brothel. Cringing she stood to look at the girl once more. This tiny thing would be easy pickings among the women that lived there, but it was the only choice she had. "We need to move again, please feel free to wear your coat." Li shook her head.

"It's specifically made to represent my family; it has the crest and the colors. I would be noticed." Begrudgingly Viola passed her the holed jacket from Al.

"This is all I can offer you." Li took the coat gingerly before slipping it over her shoulders. "We'll have to stay to the shadows again." This time Li initiated contact by taking Viola's hands. As they moved quietly past the individuals downstairs Viola couldn't help but feel attached to Li. The small girl hanging onto her for dear life, and huddling into her side as they hurried through the cold streets of the city.

Slowly the feeling of fierce maternal protection surged through her veins. It was a feeling of life she only ever received from opiates. She tried to suppress the sudden rush of giddiness as she led her inside the large house at the other end of Manhattan. The hallways were empty as they headed up the winding staircase. No doubt the girls were still sleeping, not to awake until the sun had completely set.

Li seemed interested in their surroundings as she gripped Viola's hand tightly. Every few steps she would pause momentarily to stare at a painting before Viola would tug her along. At last she reached Madame Lucille's office and knocked. They waited a few minutes with no response. Quietly she opened the door and peered inside. The study was dark and vacant as she pulled them both into the room.

"No one's here." Li offered releasing her hand and reaching for a shelf jammed with books. Viola made her way to the desk. She lit the lantern on the counter and received a rather unapproving noise from a dim corner.

"Oi!" A form launched themselves from a chaise and rubbed their eyes. "I'm trying to get some sleep!" Viola recognized the voice immediately and placed her hands on her hips.

"And I'm trying to get some service."

"Viola?!" the individual moved from their area and stepped into the light. "Wow, long time no see sweetheart." The woman beamed extending her hand for a quick pinch on Vi's cheek. "What brings ya back to your humble beginnings?"

"Hardly humble beginnings," Viola laughed gesturing at the extravagant library. "I have a favor to ask Madame, is she here?" the lady swept a long braid of chocolate brown hair over her shoulder.

"No, Lucille is on vacation." She winked at the use of the word.

"Ah." Viola smirked. "Always the one for networking."

"I'm in charge until she gets back, so what service do you need?" another wink at the innuendo before situating herself behind the desk. Viola pointed to Li who was currently engrossed in a large volume of poetry. "Recruit?"

"No!" her tone was vehement causing her ward to look up. "No, she is…" Viola struggled for words. "She is…"

"Collateral." Li answered stepping towards the two women. "I'm collateral."

"Collateral?" Viola's friend inquired raising a thin eyebrow. Before Vi could offer a response knowledge contorted the older woman's features. "Reese I presume."

"Dove, please, I need a place for her to stay. I can't keep her at Al's." Dove sighed loudly as she leaned back in the velvet chair.

"Everyone is required to work here Viola."

"I understand, but, can't you find something else besides that?" Dove's blue eyes settled on the girl.

"I suppose, but you'll owe me one." Viola reached across the desk and grabbed her hands.

"Thank you! I'll do whatever you need." Dove rolled her eyes before smacking the cheerful girl away.

"As for you," she stood inclining her head to look at Li. "We have rules here so make sure to follow them, or else you're out."

"Understood." Li answered extending her hand for a shake. Dove laughed before taking it. Checking the time Viola realized she needed to leave. Customers would be waiting for her and Al would be curious. Reaching for Li she pulled her away from Dove's cynical gaze.

"Be careful okay? Dove is nice, she is a friend, and if any of the girls try to harass you, you can always go to her. She'll look out for you I promise." Realization dawned in Li's eyes and she reached out to grip Viola's forearms.

"You're leaving me?" she whispered. For the first time Viola saw the fear flash across her expression, and the hopelessness of her situation. Li was a child gripping onto the one person she had conceded to trust. "Please," she begged stepping closer. "Please don't leave me." Viola took a ragged breath.

"I have to work."

"But, he said you couldn't come back until he called. He said you were stuck with me!" she grew frantic as she babbled on her nails digging into Viola's flesh. "You took me away from my family and now you're leaving me _here_?!" The guilt weighed on Viola like bricks as she stared into the caramel eyes of her hostage.

"I don't have a choice…" she trailed off as she gently pried Li's hands from her arms. "This is the most comfortable place for you. It saves you from living on the streets and it keeps you hidden." Dove stepped forward as Viola passed the tiny girl into her arms. Li said nothing, instead she lowered her gaze to the floor and shrugged her new captors hands from her shoulders.

Before Viola changed her mind she hurried towards the door and exited the brothel. Once in the crisp air she released a quiet sob. The protection was overwhelming, as well as the need to return to her side. It made sense as Viola proceeded to the bar why Li's father treasured her. Her personality, her aura, was so pure and so magnetic. Even now Viola fought the desire to snatch her up and apologize profusely. However, Viola had to make money, and she had to keep smuggling opiates. Without them she was nothing.

* * *

Her room was an utter disaster. Clothes were ripped to shreds, her dresser face down on the floor. In the middle of the chaos Viola sat her hands shaking as she squeezed the shards of her Matryoshka doll until blood dripped down her wrist. It had been broken in the fit of her rage. One of the few things she had left of Russia now ceased to exist.

Two weeks had passed since Viola had left Li at Lucille's brothel, and since Al had found her using again. The disappointment and disgust reflected in his eyes as she inhaled from the pipe tore her apart. This time she had tried, honestly tried to kick her habit. The withdraw was killing her. Viola's entire body shook with need, she had a constant sheen of sweat on her forehead and she itched all over. Sleep was out of the question, as well as food. It took all of Al's convincing for her to sip water. Now she sat in the peak of her agony with a destroyed room and panicked knocking.

"Viola! Viola answer me! Answer me!" Al roared from the other side her door nearly in splinters. Releasing a sob she gathered the shards of her doll and stood. Shoving them in her dress pocket she shoved aside the broken dresser and swung open her door. "Viola…" Al trailed off as he surveyed the damage behind her. "Viola what did you do, what can I do?" he was hurt but she didn't care.

"I need to breathe!" she snapped brushing past him and dashing for the door. He didn't follow as she burst out of the bar and into the alley. Vomit threatened its way up her throat as she stumbled through the streets. Her bloody hand was wrapped around her neck at the burning sensation. She wanted to stop smoking, but she hadn't been prepared for the physical and psychological battle.

Her sobs were loud and distracting as she shoved people aside to reach Bottle Alley. Without her Matroyoshka doll she didn't have anything left. The only way to return to Russia was opiates, and she had to have them. Finally the den peeked into view and she released a happy sound of laughter. Straightening she bolted towards the door only to be knocked backwards by a sudden impact. Floundering on the hard ground she growled in frustration.

"Watch where you're going!" she shrieked standing hurriedly and grabbing her assailant by the collar. Sincere chocolate brown eyes stared back at her tinged with excitement.

"Viola!" he exclaimed gripping her hands. "Viola, it's me, Mush." She stared, mouth open, in utter astonishment as he pried her fingers from his shirt. "Wow, didn't think I'd see you again." He chimed smoothing out his ruffled clothes. Slowly knowledge of who she had bumped into fought its way through the haze of withdraw. Standing before her beaming beautifully was the boy who wanted to learn ballet. The euphoric boy that she had reached out to almost three weeks ago.

"Mush," she began but instead she crumpled to her knees and cried. It was loud and boisterous and Mush was obviously disturbed. He dropped to her side quickly and gripped her shoulders.

"Vi, what is it? What is it, tell me!" he was worried, and this time she responded to his panic. Wrapping her arms around his neck she sobbed into his chest relishing in the comforting smell of ink and New York. He didn't ask again. Instead he reacted by sweeping his arms underneath her legs and cradling her against his body. Forgetting the scattered papers he carried her away from the opiate den and into the heart of Manhattan. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps and soothing humming comforted her until at last the sobs stopped. Her body still shook but her sweating and itching had dispersed. She had thought that the den was her salvation, but on the contrary it was this simple newsboy.

"Artel'nyy gorshok gushche kipit." She whispered.

"I'm sorry?" he asked tightening his grip.

"An old Russian saying. My mother would say it to me all the time."

"Ah, I knew your accent sounded familiar. What does it mean?" she could hear the relief in his voice and she chuckled quietly.

"An artel's pot boils denser." She quoted perfectly smiling at the memory of her mother's sharp tone.

"I'm guessing that's something profound huh?" he finally stopped walking and with a loud grunt fell backwards onto the grass. His arms still held her close as she sat content in his lap. "I wish I could remember my parents, but, I can't." her fingers sub consciously began to draw patterns against his thin shirt.

"I'm sorry." He shrugged.

"You can't miss what you never had." His tone was incredibly cheery, yet as she looked up into his face she could see the silent pain. As much as she wanted to remain in his arms she pushed away. Reluctantly Mush released her as she rolled from his lap and onto the ground. Her hands looked stark and white against the vibrant green lawn.

She plucked a blade from the bunch and sat back on her haunches. Twisting it in her fingers she glanced at their surroundings. The dark water churned and lapped against the stone shore in front of them as she counted the passing boats. It had to have been more than five circling the infamous Statue of Liberty. To see the beacon of hope so close meant only one thing. Glancing over her shoulder and past the trees and flowers she spotted the large buildings of the Financial District.

"You walked a ways." She commented following a few business men with her eyes. "A really long ways." Mush laughed as he leaned back on his elbows.

"Walking is what I do best." She smiled returning her gaze to the newsie.

"How's business?" he sighed before collapsing completely. Staring at the clouds above him he attempted a shrug.

"Business is business." Viola understood that response. He didn't want to talk about work. Work wasn't what he cared about.

"How's dancing?" silence stretched before them at her inquiry. She wasn't sure if she had crossed a boundary she was unaware was there. However, this boy had swept her up in his arms and carried her across Manhattan to Battery Park. Therefore the boundary was already a thin line.

"You didn't come back, and I lost interest."

"I don't think me being there made a difference," she began bringing her knees against her chest. "And I don't think you lost interest. So tell me the truth." Carefully he sat up and locked his brown eyes on her green ones. His cheerful disposition had faded completely as he debated giving her a proper answer. Mush wasn't sure why he had carried her across Manhattan without question, or why he had disregarded his paper route, or why he was so tempted to close the distance between their lips, yet he was.

Of course he knew she was a prostitute, and by the state she was in at Bottle Alley an addict as well, but there was something else. Something stuffed so far inside that even she was afraid to let it out. Yet, he wanted to be the one to find it. To find that small spark of life he saw momentarily as she watched the ballet class. The spark of life that dissipated so fast he barely had time to latch onto it.

"I couldn't focus," he took a deep breath. "I couldn't focus because I was too preoccupied trying to find you." Finally he admitted it. Racetrack, Blink, Cowboy, everyone had been commenting on his lack of drive, his waning positivity, and there was no way he could say it was a girl. No way he could say it was this particular girl.

He had never known her name. None of them had. They only saw glimpses of her as she latched onto Spot Conlon when he had still been around. She had been the closest thing to a relationship Brooklyn had seen. However, Spot was gone now, and so was the energy she had once emanated. To admit that this girl had invaded his thoughts the moment she grasped his hand was embarrassing. Though, Viola wasn't looking at him with disgust or skepticism. She was staring at him with surprise, anticipation, and affection.

"Me?" she breathed. "You were looking for me?" the idea that Mush wanted her for what she did best hardly crossed her thoughts. She could tell as a faint blush tinged his tanned cheeks that he was sincerely attracted to her.

"Look, I just, I wanted," he sighed in frustration as he ripped his cap from his head. "I know this sounds weird, but…" she had pressed the palm of her hand against his lips. In those few seconds the poor boy had been fumbling for words it all fell into place. It didn't matter what he wanted, what he expected, or what anyone else wanted for that matter, it mattered that Viola wanted to spend time with him. She wanted to gallivant across New York, even across the world, with this boy in tow. His blush had grown darker and she laughed.

"I'll make a deal with you Mush." She said standing and brushing the grass from her dress. Mush scrambled to his feet still feeling the tingling sensation of where her hand had been. "I have a friend that needs a place to stay, if you could help me with that, then I'll teach you how to dance." He gaped at her hardly believing what she had said. Mush had only wanted to ask her on a date, he hardly was expecting dance lessons.

"You, you dance?" he managed watching her in awe as she grinned. It had been years, years since she had made the oath to never dance again. But her hands were already removing her heeled boots and casting them aside.

Mush continued to gape as she straightened her back and focused. _Here goes nothing_ she thought as her arms raised themselves into the familiar positions. The sensation of her feet moving to pointe and then passé and eventually into performing two pique turns and ending with a chaines turn caused her to laugh loudly. Her body was still conditioned to imitate the moves perfectly and in a spur of the moment decision she returned to stand before her newsboy with a rather flamboyant pirouette.

"Your friend is more than welcome at the newsboy lodging house." It flowed out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. Viola launched herself into his arms.

"Thank you!" she landed a kiss against his cheek as she pulled back. "Should we meet you tomorrow?"

"Oh, I have to sell, I mean, your friend, there's rent."

"I can pay her rent. Where should we meet you?" Mush clumsily replaced his cap.

"Central Park."

"Deal, we'll see you at noon. Thanks again Mush," she placed another kiss this time allowing her lips to linger before pushing away. He stared at her still engulfed in shock. She smiled before grabbing her shoes. "See you tomorrow!" she called before turning to run.

The sun had finally set and the lamps surrounding the park had been lit when Mush was able to move. He had been standing in the same place for god knows how long mulling over what had happened. Somehow he had made a deal that probably had consequences he couldn't fathom. As he headed back towards the lodging house he wondered just how much he would regret allowing Viola to weasel her way into his life.

God knew he needed her to do that, he needed someone. And the way she danced, the magical, graceful way she had floated across the grass had been mesmerizing. There was no way someone as beautiful as her was as dangerous as he thought. Yet, as he pushed open the door to the bunkroom and spied Cowboy looking extra grumpy he felt he might have jumped into that artel's boiling pot a little too eagerly.

It was fairly empty considering the time of night, but Mush was happy there wouldn't be too many witnesses to his request.

"Er, hey Jack." He called shuffling to a stop beside him. Cowboy didn't bother to look up. Instead he waved his hand dismissively as he eyed a small piece of paper. "I know you're probably busy, but I have something I wanna ask."

"Dammit!" he shrieked chucking his writing utensils across the room. "Can't you see I'm doing something?!" his brown eyes, which used to be so expressive, were dull and lifeless. Ever since Spot's disappearance the Manhattan borough had been forced to take responsibility of Brooklyn. Currently, Conlon's old boys were wreaking havoc across the city and soiling the newsie name. Mush didn't respond, instead he stared at him with forgiveness and waited. After a few tense moments Cowboy sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry Mush, really, I'm real sorry. You don't deserve that."

"It's alright Jack."

"No, no it's not alright!" Jack growled clearly irritated. "I don't know what to do anymore! No one can find Patriot, Spot's second, and apparently the more tough brooklynites are soaking helpless kids in the streets. And I'm expected to step in!" he pumped water into the sink and splashed the cold liquid across his face. "They don't respect me. They'll never respect me. Not like they did him." Clenching his jaw he wrapped a towel around his fist before punching the wall. "God dammit Conlon!"

No one had been prepared when Spot jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, not even Brooklyn. Once the news of Spot's death spread Patriot had fled Brooklyn leaving the warehouse in chaos. Everyone had known Brooklyn ran the newsboys, everyone knew Conlon was infamous, but nobody had known just how much influence he casted across the boroughs. Conlon was a symbol of terror and now he was a symbol of cowardice and betrayal. The only person who knew the entire story was gone, and not even Spot's old birdies couldn't locate Patriot.

"I know you have a lot on your mind, but please, can I ask ya something?" Jack nodded as he returned to his seat.

"Shoot." Mush took a deep breath and dove in his speech running a mile a minute.

"I met a girl and she needs a favor and it's important and we made a deal and I really need what she's offering me and I can't talk about it right now, but please Jack just understand that this is something that will change my life, something I need in my life, and in return the girl's friend needs a place to stay, and I know I shoulda asked you but it happened so fast and I said yes and they're meeting me tomorrow so can the friend please stay here? The girl will pay for rent and everything." Cowboy studied him for awhile before quirking an eyebrow.

"A girl? You have a girl?"

"Wait, that's what's important to you right now?" Jack burst out laughing before clapping Mush on the shoulder. He stared in disbelief as his leader motioned for him to follow. Dumbfounded they climbed onto the fire escape.

"Cigarette?" Cowboy offered which Mush accepted gratefully. He took a long drag before responding. "If you're in trouble Mush you can always come to me. I don't know what deal you made, but if some girl is this important to you, then I won't say no."

"So that's why you're not suspicious? Because I made a deal with a girl? Am I missing something?" Jack smirked.

"I might get in trouble for saying something first," another drag, exhale, "But me and the guys started to think you might…ya know, play for the other team." Mush's jaw fell as he processed the statement.

"What?" he whispered.

"Look, don't soak me! I mean you just, you only hang out with Blink, and besides the usual cat call we don't see ya get with anyone."

"I can assure you I like women, and since you're letting the friend stay, I'll refrain from giving you a shiner."

"So, we're good?" Jack asked stepping back slightly. Mush cracked a smile and finally laughed.

"Yes, we're good."

"Great! Just bring the girl around, alright?" Mush conceded and after a last inhale dropped his cigarette over the side.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Night."

"Night." Mush slipped into the window and made his way to the familiar bunk. Blink slept on top and he wondered how many nights his best friend thought he harbored romantic feelings for him. Laughing he rolled over and punched his pillow into a comfortable blob. _Here goes nothing_ he thought before falling asleep.

**A/N**: Ah, another chapter successfully posted! I thought this was only a few pages long, and I wanted to give ya'll a nice update, but when I uploaded it, it said eight pages! This story is literally flowing from my fingertips which usually never happens. KNOCK ON WOOD. I really hope my two reviewers so far enjoy this! You guys are awesome! Much love!


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